


Equilibrium

by farfetched



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Getting to Know Each Other, M/M, Post-Canon, Reunions, University Student Bokuto Koutarou, technically an AU with the new chapters
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21908530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/farfetched/pseuds/farfetched
Summary: Kenma finds that Bokuto lives just down the street from his new apartment.Bokuto makes himself at home, and they become friends; or, perhaps, something else?
Relationships: Bokuto Koutarou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 6
Kudos: 112
Collections: Haikyuu Secret Santa 2019





	Equilibrium

Bokuto's hands are so warm. 

It's definitely not the first thing Kenma noticed about him. Why would it be? That would probably be his hair, and then his volume.   
Definitely his volume. His booming voice can be heard about two kilometres away and Kenma often wonders if he even has the capacity to be quiet. But apparently his silence usually means he’s in a difficult mood and therefore isn't a good thing. 

But they are only friends of friends, really; Kuroo knows he's not so great with boisterous people and therefore tends to fill him in afterwards about his and Bokuto's adventures (and misadventures) at a far quieter tone. It suits Kenma just fine. He doesn't see why Bokuto would have much to do with him anyway. 

In any case, he gets two years of games against Bokuto, and training camps and things and because of his nature he hides and because of _his_ nature Bokuto shines like the sun. Kenma has to squint when he looks at him sometimes, it's blinding. 

And then Kuroo graduates, Bokuto graduates, and Kenma is left as vice captain fighting against Akaashi in the training camps and a whole new roster of players to work out. 

Honestly, Kenma doesn't think of Bokuto much. 

Hadn’t, at least, until he steps out of the front door of his apartment block and hears an ear splitting shout of ‘KENMAAAAAAAA!’

Turning his head in the direction of the noise, he finds himself confronted with an ecstatic Bokuto, bounding up to him. Never one to hold back, Bokuto engulfs him in a hug and spins him around once, before returning Kenma’s feet to the ground where they belong. 

“Kenma! I didn’t know you lived here, what a coni- coin- how weird!” Bokuto announces, beaming. Kenma blinks, once and then twice, processing the situation, although Bokuto doesn’t actually stop talking. “I live just over there! I could come over any time! You could come over any time! Will you set for me, too!” 

Bokuto is, in many ways, an avalanche. He’s a force to be reckoned with, whether he’s in a good mood or bad. Kenma steps back and looks down. He can still feel those arms around him, holding him tight. Not many people get to get close to him, really, so it’s naturally jarring when they ignore all signs and hug him anyway. Weirdly, Kenma finds himself not minding quite so much. 

“No,” he murmurs, because hell if he’s doing extra work. He’s left volleyball in high school, although Kuroo begged him not to. It’s just… Shouyou isn’t even close to here anymore, and he’s not going to be able to play with Kenma. It smarts, that’s true, but they’ve stayed in contact. Shouyou is one of the few who gets that. 

Bokuto pouts. “But you’re so good! Almost as good as Akaashi, but he went to Hokkaido. Rude.” Bokuto huffs to one side, crossing his arms. Then as per his usual mood whiplash, he turns back to Kenma and grins. “Just a few shots! Come on!” 

“I’m shopping, Bokuto,” Kenma replies, and steps around him gingerly. “I’m not playing anymore.” 

“Whaaaaaat?!” Bokuto screeches, at which Kenma winces. So loud. His volume hasn’t changed, that’s for sure. 

So Bokuto pesters him to, at, and on the way back from the store, egged on by Kenma’s minimal replies. 

It’s weirdly... not awful. 

Maybe it’s that Kenma hasn’t really been able to make any friends yet, only in his first week at university. Maybe it’s that Kenma hasn’t lived alone before and is still mapping the silence of an empty apartment, both for the better and worse. Maybe it’s just comforting to see a familiar face, Kuroo up in Tohoku and the rest of the graduating Nekoma team spread all over. Fukunaga is closest, and they have a great time having tea occasionally and signing to each other. But there is something about the uninhibited brashness of Bokuto that is both irritating and refreshing. Bokuto invites himself up to the flat, but Kenma doesn’t stop him. 

Bokuto pokes around cooing at things whilst Kenma makes a tea for the both of them. If Bokuto doesn’t like tea, he can make something else himself. 

“Why’d’ya quit, anyway?” pipes up a voice from behind him. Kenma jolts, splashing a small amount of boiling water onto his hand. Hissing, he pulls it away and wipes the water off. It’ll be fine. 

Bokuto seems to think otherwise. He grabs Kenma’s hand and squints at it intensely.   
“Are you okay? It’s kinda red. Run it under the tap, quick!” Not really giving Kenma a chance to object, he pulls him over to the sink, puts his hand under the tap and runs it. Bokuto holds his hand there. Kenma frowns at him. 

“It’s fine, it wasn’t going to burn,” he mutters, but doesn’t fight it. Even if he tried, Bokuto could beat him senseless with his little finger. Probably. Man works out way more than is normal. Although he is now in a university team and trying to get scouted, so it makes sense for him. 

Bokuto huffs dramatically. “Ken _maaaaa_!” he whines dramatically, “You don’t want a scar!” 

Kenma couldn’t really care less, but he also can’t be bothered to fight. He falls silent for a moment, which is when he really notices it. The warmth of Bokuto’s hands, even though Kenma’s fingers are getting colder by the second under the stream of chilled water, seeps through that sensation. Kuroo always had cold hands, and thankfully respected Kenma enough to keep contact to high-fives, mostly. It’s been a long time since he really let anyone touch him like this, but he doesn’t think hands this warm are normal. 

_Why is he letting Bokuto hold his hand, essentially?_ whispers a murmur from the depths of his brain. He mulls it over, but he has no answer. Besides, his hands are getting cold, distracting him. 

“That’s fine,” he mutters, tugging on his hand. Meeting resistance, he glances up. “My hand’s too cold, Bokuto. It’s not going to scar,” he remarks, and then seeing Bokuto continuing to waver, offers, “If it starts to hurt, I’ll put it back under.” 

Bokuto pouts for a second, then nods.   
“Okay! But I’m gonna carry the tea!” he announces merrily. Kenma isn’t going to argue, and shuffles to the lounge while rubbing his hands together for warmth, followed by a bouncing Bokuto. Kenma seats himself on the sofa. Bokuto does the same, and in his usual fashion, plonks himself down next to him, close enough that their knees brush. 

Kenma pulls his knees up to his chest, suddenly strangely aware of his heart. 

Thankfully, Bokuto blithers on about all sorts, kept going by random noises from Kenma. He’s started playing a mobile game, but he is listening – at least half listening, anyway. He needs to be doing stuff with his hands to properly listen, and this game, unimportant and repetitive as it is, is perfect for that. 

At some point though, Bokuto leans in close and peers over his shoulder. “Whatch’ya playin’?” 

Kenma clicks the screen off by reflex. “Nothing.” In his peripheral vision, he spots Bokuto droop. “Could play Smash Bros.”   
“Smash Bros?” Bokuto asks, and Kenma thinks that he’s got some education to do. Well, he won’t be able to beat Bokuto at a fight in real life, so he can win a virtual fight. It’s good enough for him.   
“Mm-hm. I’ll show you.” Shifting, he dodges the table to get to the cabinet under the TV, to turn the console on. He knows Smash Bros is already in there, since he was playing it online yesterday; one controller is already on the table, but he collects the other, and checks they’re both charged enough. Bokuto watches this ritual with undue fascination, and when Kenma returns to his seat, he’s still giving Kenma a piercing look. Grabbing his tea, he sips on it to avoid looking at him, watching instead the game loading up. 

“I forgot my tea!” Bokuto cries, spinning to take a gulp of his own drink. “Blegh!” At which he grimaces, presumably at the temperature. Kenma’s used to drinking cold tea by now, lacking the energy or care most of the time to reheat it or make a new cup. Bokuto solves the problem by gulping the whole thing down nearly in one; Kenma snorts lightly at the face he proceeds to make once finished. “Too cold, it’s disgusting…” 

“You didn’t have to drink it…” he murmurs as he navigates through the menu deftly, setting up a two player match – with items, because that’s probably going to be more fun for Bokuto, and with some random computer players just because – and landing on the character select screen. 

“You still play games a lot, huh!” Bokuto pipes up, finally. Glancing at him, it doesn’t seem a mean comment, not like his grandma would make, more just a statement of fact. It does make sense – they never really knew each other that well, and they haven’t even spoken in the best part of a year. Kenma just hums and shoves the controller in his hands. 

“Pick someone.” Kenma’s not really going to get much good practice out of this, and Bokuto will pout if he wins too badly, so he picks Pikachu, not the best, not the worst. Bokuto hums and haws, and eventually picks Snake because ‘he looks like a badass’. 

Kenma’s heard worse logic. Besides, Kenma soundly beats him anyway. After a few times (of Kenma easing off and killing the computer players about a thousand times each instead) he starts to get the hang of it, and even gets a few kills in. Once, he even kills Kenma – although mostly because Kenma had had a fair bit of damage, was standing closer to the edge, and had decided to take a sip of tea. 

He’ll let it go, this time. He makes sure to kill Bokuto in revenge, though. 

Eventually, Bokuto starts to pout because he can’t win against Kenma. Kenma shoves a portable console in his hands and gets him playing Pokemon, one that he’d restarted but not gotten too far with. Judging by the merry noises coming from him, Kenma would say that’s a good start, and uses the time to practice on his main in Smash Bros. 

They both end up asleep on the sofa. It’ll only be mildly awkward in the morning, Kenma hopes.

* * *

Kenma doesn’t really expect it to continue, but it does. Bokuto spends an inordinate amount of time around his apartment, especially considering that he could just go home, but unless Kenma has a tournament going on that he really needs to concentrate on, there’s not much point chasing him out. Sometimes it helps to have a big guy around the place, for when jars are hard to open, or things are too high up on shelves, or spiders crawl out from underneath cupboards. Although the amount of shrieking whilst dealing with arachnids is not really worth the benefits of not having to deal with them himself, Kenma thinks. 

They settle into a sort of equilibrium, where Kenma will come back from lectures and find Bokuto hanging around outside his door. Bokuto will spot him and grin so wide it’ll blind him, and then they’ll be in his apartment playing games or eating or whatever else it is. And Kenma starts to realise that Bokuto treats him a little like a cat. 

He helps to keep him fed, although he always thinks Kenma should be eating more. He always bothers him, although it doesn’t usually bother Kenma as much as it probably should. And he has no personal boundaries. Bokuto is the kind of person who’ll just get Kenma to lie on him while playing games, or lean against him, or just outright cuddle him, and Kenma kind of finds it uncomfortable and kind of doesn’t like it but also doesn’t hate it enough to move, and- 

Basically he’s started cuddling with Bokuto. 

In his defence, Bokuto is a very warm person, and Kenma tends towards the cold side, and if Bokuto wants to share his heat that much, Kenma isn’t going to complain. It’s just become a natural thing, now, to flop on Bokuto instead of sitting normally, and Bokuto will grin and Kenma’s heart will make itself known and his face will feel warm but it doesn’t really matter and he’s not going to put any brain power into figuring it out, anyway. He can’t be bothered. 

He just doesn’t really want to think about it. There’s no point, not with Bokuto. He’s never shown any real interest in people to Kenma’s knowledge, not towards any gender, and Kenma is excellent at ignoring things that could make the situation awkward. 

Until. Until the equilibrium shifts. Until a force acts upon them and changes their direction. As with most things, Bokuto is that force. 

“Don’t wanna go back to mine.” Bokuto says, pouting, leaning his head on the top of Kenma’s. 

It has, weirdly, become a typical position for the two of them; Kenma practically sitting in Bokuto’s lap, leaning against him whilst playing games. Bokuto quite enjoys watching, although he’ll often be playing something simple over Kenma’s head, and muttering about it occasionally. It’s comfortable, it’s warm, and no one sees it happen, so Kenma’s all good. 

Kenma pauses for a second. Bokuto practically lives around here nowadays, but emphasis on the _practically_. He tends to slope off back to his house late at night, often with much performance and always reluctantly. The main problem with staying over at Kenma’s is that he doesn’t have a futon and the sofa isn’t long enough for Bokuto to stretch out on. 

Both of them sleeping in the bed has never come up as an option. 

Kenma makes a questioning noise. He doesn’t pause the game, but the rate of his kills drops, and his regenerations start to mount up. Bokuto sighs heavily. 

“’s too quiet. ‘s not comfy. Not like here.” The vibration of his voice reverberates through Kenma’s skull. Frowning, he redoubles the effort in his game.   
“Get a new house then,” he mumbles, making his way to the ammo point and gearing up there. What if Bokuto does move away though? It’ll be quiet. That’ll be good, right? It’ll be just him – and not going out for days, not returning to a sheepish grin, not seeing Bokuto and his facial expressions trying to play a game, not seeing him try to make food in the kitchen and usually give up. Not… seeing him at all, if he moves far away. 

Bokuto shifts uncomfortably. “But you’re here!” he says. 

Kenma halts in the game, character as still on the screen as his thoughts for a blinding second.   
“What does that mean?” he hears himself say, unsure he wants the answer. The answer will change things, tilt the equilibrium, throw things out of careful balance of unsaid and meaningless words and Kenma doesn’t know if that’s going to be good or not. 

“’Cause you make it home! My house is empty and cold and bleh, but here is just- it’s got you, and I-” Bokuto halts, apparently not embarrassed but searching for words. The whole world seems to halt, no sirens, not birds, only the background music of the game down low, the tinny chirps of the game Bokuto hasn’t been playing for a while now, and their breathing. Kenma wishes he could look at Bokuto from here, but that would mean Bokuto being able to see him, and he’s not prepared. “I wanna live here with you, cause I kinda like you…” 

Someone finds his character and shoots him dead. The game ends in the vicious silence where Kenma is processing. 

People don’t like him. He doesn’t like people, really, except he’s got exceptions to that and Kuroo was the first outside of close family, then Shouyou wormed his way in, and Kenma thought that was going to be it, but Bokuto has come here so often and so easily that he’s chipped a hole in the walls Kenma builds up and stands in there and smiles at him so hopefully. 

Kenma never knows what to do with people who want to be on the inside of his walls. 

Bokuto groans morosely, lifts his hands up to his face.   
“Forget it. Forget it! I’m gonna leave!” he whines. But he doesn’t move straight away, doesn’t shift Kenma at all. 

“Huh?” 

Kenma has his hand wrapped around Bokuto’s wrist. When did that- never mind. Bokuto will steam roller over this, probably. Kenma wishes he could consult someone for advice. Kuroo maybe, or Akaashi. He’s just no good at this, but- 

“You don’t- have to go,” he stutters, griping the controller tightly with his other hand. “You practically live here anyway. I’m- not upset.” Words just aren’t really him. Signing is easier but Bokuto wouldn’t understand that anyway, and he still wouldn’t know what to say.   
“Really?” Bokuto breathes, hope lighting his voice. Kenma nods stiffly, a heat swelling in his chest. “Really?!” Kenma nods again. 

Bokuto screeches in glee for a second, then engulfs Kenma in an enthusiastic hug, holding him so tightly an earthquake couldn’t shake them. Kenma hesitates, but tilts his head towards Bokuto’s silently, and releases the controller to hold onto his arms. Unbidden, his lips quirk upwards until he realises he’s actually smiling. 

Huh. Well that’s rare, but not unwanted, not unwelcome. 

They’ll have to settle things yet, have to sort things out and actually use words to bring things into being, but maybe it’s not quite so much of a problem, the equilibrium shifting. Bokuto’s momentum is enough for the both of them, speeding Kenma up and Kenma slowing him down, so that they can equalise in the middle. Maybe, just maybe, this can work. And maybe, just maybe, Kenma might even enjoy it. 

His smile doesn’t really leave his face for a long time.


End file.
